


Catharsis

by StoriesForMonday



Category: Motionless in White (Band)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Domestic Violence, M/M, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:54:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29655768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoriesForMonday/pseuds/StoriesForMonday
Summary: "We all learn things from childhood; not to put our hands on hot stoves, to keep our elbows off the dining table, and all of the million idiosyncrasies of being human. Some of us make it out relatively unscathed while some of us are permanently scarred in a way that haunts us in every moment alone."Chris works through childhood trauma with Ricky's help.
Relationships: Chris "Motionless" Cerulli/Ricky "Horror" Olson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Catharsis

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a long angsty road, but here it is...

(Chapter One) 

We all learn things from childhood; not to put our hands on hot stoves, to keep our elbows off the dining table, and all of the million idiosyncrasies of being human. Some of us make it out relatively unscathed while some of us are permanently scarred in a way that haunts us in every moment alone. Chris knew he landed on the latter part of the spectrum but then again, didn’t everyone have their ghosts. He had learnt one key thing; self preservation. It cast a shadow, creating darkness even in the moments of pure elation. It chased away any hopes of trust and intimacy in complete subtlety always living in the background. As he smoothed his hand over the crisp white table cloth he wondered if everyone felt the same sort of existential dread at the prospect of a romantic evening or if it was just him. Ricky certainly seemed unfussed, leaning back people watching and taking sips of the bottle of red he had ordered for himself. 

Whether it was a date or it wasn’t didn't seem entirely clear. Ricky was far too quiet, far too casual and it got under his skin in a way he hadn’t quite expected. His clear blue eyes were clouded over in that wine drunk haze as they finally settled on him. He gave a sleepy smile leaning forward before muttering over the remnants of the vegan chocolate fondant they had split for dessert. “This was nice.” It didn’t say much about his intentions inviting Chris there. It said nothing and it made him want to scream. It had been a long time since he had let anyone in (if a casual friends with benefits situation could count as emotional investment). The panic settled in his stomach as he nodded and Chris knew it was completely irrational to be so on edge about dinner. His mind had already skipped ahead ten steps to Ricky feeling nothing but the weight of disappointment on his way out of the door.

“It was…Can I just ask, is this a date?” Chris gave a laugh attempting to make his question sound casual though the tension weighing on him was undeniable. The answer had the ability to crush either way which was a part of the problem. He should have been hoping for a ‘Yes’ he should have been at the edge of his seat excited about how everything would look in the future for the two of them but all he could picture was crashing and burning. All he could think about was how Ricky would one day look at him the same way every other lover had done in the past. The look that said that they were exhausted by him in a way that would never be remedied. And despite every insistence that he could recover from heart break it had damaged him a little more. He felt terrible for deep down hoping that Ricky would assure him they were just two friends having dinner to catch up but his heart lurched into his throat at the response.

“Well… I don’t wear my lucky shirt for just any old dinner” Ricky laughed, straightening the collar of his smart black button up with a bright smile. The apprehension welling up in Chris’ chest felt familiar in a way that he absolutely hated. He gave a nod hoping that the expression on his face didn’t give him away. Wasn’t it just absolutely, fucking fantastic. Then why did he feel like the walls were closing in around him. He could barely focus on the conversation that unfolded - it could have been about the band, a project Ricky was working on or confirmation of alien life. All of Chris’ attention was on the sound of his heartbeat in his head, his hands balled into fists with his nails digging into his palms and the sudden warmth blooming across his skin. He only could hope that the nods and hums of agreement were in all of the right places and from the looks he was getting back he was close enough. 

They made their way out into the heavy night air and Chris felt weightless slowly strolling with his hands tucked into his jacket pockets. Ricky kept pace beside him watching the ground as they walked back to his house. He wanted to say something but nothing sounded right and soon enough they had made it to the gate that led to his front door. He rocked back on his heels looking up at Chris with a nervous smile before verbalising what he had been thinking about all night. "Do you want to come in for a coffee?" It was so nonchalant, yet so meaningful in the same breath. Chris paused before answering with a small nod. He followed Ricky to the door attempting to picture what was on the other side. He had gotten carried away with the thoughts of their bodies tangled together on a heart shaped bed covered in rose petals under red lighting. 

The reality was a dark hallway and the noise of their feet shuffling as they took off their shoes and the rustling sound of their coats coming off. It was just a house. A place he had been a million times before but for some reason it felt different as he followed Ricky to the kitchen. He leant back against the counter watching him switch on the coffee machine. "Is that a different type of roast?" Chris asked peering over at the packet in his hand, letting himself feel comfortable for a moment. "Columbian, smells great, doesn't it?" His blue eyes peering up at him, holding out a mug full of the magical elixir. Chris tentatively took a sip letting the taste settle before delivering a review. “It’s… nice, I like that.” The words weren’t going to be published in the papers but it seemed to please Ricky who smiled before taking a sip from his own mug. 

“Vinny is away...He won’t be coming home until tomorrow afternoon, I don’t think.” Ricky’s voice was low, his eyes fixed on the floor though it was obvious what he meant. You don’t let your date know they have the house to yourselves if you weren’t hinting at something else. “Oh, that’s cool” Chris hummed, not knowing how to respond. He wanted to be as cool as a cucumber about the prospect of staying the night, but in reality the thought terrified him in a way he hadn’t expected. They stood in silence opposite each other, looking at everything but the person in front of them as they drank their coffee. Ricky felt his stomach tie into knots as he wondered if he had moved too quickly in saying out loud what he was thinking about. He could tell from the nervousness radiating from Chris’ body that he was overthinking every tiny expression he made and every word that could possibly leave his lips. 

“Are you done with that?” Ricky reached for the mug, placing them both in the sink to be dealt with later. It was as if time had slowed while reality caught up with all of the suffocating feelings weighing heavy on Chris’ chest. He felt his pulse quicken as he realised that he had reached make or break. This was it. This was the moment that would define everything that was to come after. He had no idea how he was feeling but he certainly knew one thing - Rick meant the world to him. Of everyone he had ever let down, he knew that he didn’t want to disappoint Ricky so he took a deep breath and moved closer. He knew that deep down he should have wanted this more than anything. It should not have scared him to give himself to someone he knew he could love endlessly. Chris tucked his hands into his jeans, waiting for him to turn around before making his move. 

He leant forward pressing a soft kiss against his lips as if testing the waters to see what would happen. How familiar they were seemed to evaporate in that moment as they started again as complete strangers. It was as if he was holding his breath unable to think clearly until Ricky pressed his palms against his chest, tilting his head up to deepen the kiss. Chris tried to turn off the alarm ringing through his head, melting into the moment for the physicality that existed within his reach. He tangled his fingers through Ricky’s hair, inching closer until he was pressed against the counter behind him. “Do you want to go upstairs?” He asked when he pulled back, his eyes flickering up to meet Chris’ waiting for a reaction. The word ‘yes’ was a breathless whisper on his lips but from the minute it entered the atmosphere everything suddenly started going at double time. 

They rushed down the hall, each footstep against the stairs sounding like a bass drum picking up the pace. Landing in a tangled mess of limbs, they frantically kissed as if everything else around them had been set on fire and was disappearing by the minute. Chris could feel his body go numb as his mind wandered through a forest of other thoughts and feelings that disconnected him almost completely from what was happening. The dissociation was a strangely comforting place to be. Mind over matter. He would repeat the mantra over and over in his head until he had one day started to believe it. You could have as much control as you wanted if you could escape simply by deciding not to feel anything. It was unhealthy according to his therapist but it had become ingrained and Chris seemed unsure if it was instinct he would ever be able to switch off. 

Chris had never told anyone about it after a disastrous attempt at the conversation with an ex-girlfriend many years ago. She hadn’t believed it ‘wasn’t about her’ - taking great offence to his explanation of the head space he went into sometimes when they were intimate. He knew all the right moves, so shutting off his brain and just letting his body go through the motions was easy enough. There had been times when he had been laying staring at the ceiling struggling to connect the dots of how exactly he had ended up there. Everything was just a haze and the person pressed up against him was just a warm body taking up space in his bed. He wanted to be present. He wanted to give Ricky a part of himself that was truly just for him. The sensations tugging at his consciousness were overwhelming, the feeling of his touch made it all unbelievably real. 

It wasn’t until he felt Ricky’s fingers tracing over a scar across his back beneath his shirt that everything came crashing down from the moment of elation. Chris could feel his chest seize up as his lungs struggled to keep functioning with the anxiety taking hold. He could feel his blood rushing in his ears as his heart beat thumped in his head. Ricky’s touch was as light as a feather but it might as well have been a blade dragging through his skin the way he recoiled. He fell back to the furthest point on the bed, burying his face into the covers, bringing his knees up to his chest as he attempted to become the smallest version of himself. Ricky inched closer, reaching out a hand but deciding against it, gently calling out to him instead. “Chris, it’s me...It’s going to be okay…I’m here” he felt awkward and underprepared but he said everything he could think of. 

Chris eventually turned to face him, tears glistening in his dark eyes and dampening his cheeks as his ragged breathing continued almost choking him. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry” He repeated almost as if in a daze reacting automatically as if to someone else entirely, looking through the man that was close to him. Ricky shook his head moving steadily closer not wanting to make his panic attack worse. He knew what was happening but had no clue of what to do. “It’s me, it’s okay.” he spoke a bit more firmly this time hoping to cut through the static of the memories. Chris didn’t move, laying curled up until a wave of exhaustion took hold. He closed his eyes fighting the urge to fall asleep but failing entirely as his body shook with the sheer effort of existence. He knew that in the morning he would have to talk, and that thought alone convinced him to rest.


End file.
